


Suite Pee

by caplanbuckybarnes



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caplanbuckybarnes/pseuds/caplanbuckybarnes
Summary: you tailor to a mobster, unknowing.





	Suite Pee

You didn’t know he was a fuckin’ mobster…. How the fuck could you? He seemed too nice to be able to hold a gun properly. Yeah, sure, he had switchblades tucked into his shirt tail. Yeah, he dressed too nicely at times. Yes, he called in at odd hours of the night to order for a new suit jacket.

But how the hell were you supposed to know Samuel Fuckin’ Wilson was a mobster? You hardly watched the news and didn’t give a damn about the lies that spread across the face of the paper. Not to mention, you’ve only been in these parts of the city for a little over a year now.

You had moved to New York after you had graduated from college. You worked as a tailor, knitting and sewing and designing new clothes and new fits for whomever needed quick and easy patchwork.

You’d been having a relatively silent day, patching up a single customer for the last three hours. You’d been humming to yourself to keep yourself occupied in the backroom until you heard the bell above your door ring out before the door slammed shut.

“Welcome-” you cut off as you noticed a regular customer of yours leaning heavily against your door, breathing out in heavy pants.

“Sam?” you asked, wondering why the hell the man had what looked to be blood splayed all over his white shirt. “What’cha doin’ there, bud?”

“I need a place to lay low for a second,” he whispered, carefully peering out of the curtain that covered the window slot on the door. “I’ll explain everything to you in a moment. Just try not to freak out, okay?”

“Sam-” you pointed to his shirt. “Unless you killed someone, or just delivered a baby, there’s no reason you need to be covered in what looks to be blood. What the hell is going on?”

He dropped his head as a smile pulled at his lips. “I was afraid of tellin’ you.”

“Telling me what?” You asked. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

“Worse than that, really.” He admitted shyly as he pushed himself away from the door.

“What could be worse than a serial killer?” you cried out in exasperation.

He chuckled and walked over to your register and pressed a button, causing the money slot to open up. “I’m the mobster king around here sweetheart.”

“You’re what?” you blinked.

He chuckled. “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head. “I don’t follow the media. I find that it’s just a bunch of horse shit, really.”

“That explains it.” he scoffed. “I always wondered why you always seemed so at ease with talking to me.”

“I’m not scared of you.” you admitted, though, looking down at his shirt, you couldn’t be too sure of that anymore.

“I won’t-” he cut off as sirens sounded outside for a long moment before disappearing into the city noise again. “I won’t hurt you, Y/N. If that was the case, you’d been dead a long time ago.”

“Do you need another fitting?” you asked quietly as you walked behind the counter and swatted his hand away from the money.

He chuckled. “Would you mind? I can send lil ole Steven to pay up afterwards, I promise.”

You nodded and went to retrieve the necessary items before getting to work.


End file.
